Shattered Heaven
by Little Miss Jigsaw
Summary: He doesn't see anything then, because his lips are on hers, and she tastes like heaven. A peach and cinnamon heaven." A brief piece about -the- scene in 3.10


Soooo.... I finally get around to my first Heroes fic... GabriElle, or SyElle, if you prefer, got me off my lazy ass and made me write this. It's not much. Certainly shorter than anything else I've written, but since it's a companion piece (another first) I don't think it needed to be long. For now, its complete, but if the mood strikes me, and if anyone wants it, I may do a second piece, from Elle's POV on the situation.

By the way- I own none of it. If I did, there would be no chance what so ever of Elle dying, and she and Gabriel would be engaging in activities like those at the end of Eclipse part 1 at least once an episode....

* * *

Powerless. He's powerless. A twitch of his fingers does nothing to stir the gun. In fact, it rather stubbornly stays exactly where it is. His shoulder throbs, but it's nothing compared to the overwhelming relief that floods his now-clear mind. His head has been so cloudy, so filled with static that it was hard to think. But now, blissful clarity. No fingers itching to move into that oh so familiar position, no stray thoughts wandering into his mind, telling him how _easy_ it would be to return to his old habits. He hasn't felt this way, since....

"We're completely human," he says to his partner, leaning against the counter, rubbing his arm. He wants to take her by the waist, and spin her about as he says it, like the old Gabriel might have done, had he not been so _terrified_ of pretty girls.

"...And you're okay with that?" she asks, still out of breath, from struggling with his arm. There's confusion in her crystalline blue eyes. Confusion about why he's not throwing a fit, raging about not being special..

She doesn't understand. Doesn't understand what he's had in his head all this time. The knowledge that it would be _so_ _easy_ to take everything he wanted. She doesn't realize that the looks he gives her are half murderous, as he wonders just how to completely perfect her ability. And now he's free. So he tries to make her understand. That it's a relief. That he hasn't felt this way since...

"Since I first met you."

Her breath catches for a moment, before she responds, forcefully, "I pushed you to become that monster. It's my fault." She turns away, runs from him. From what his words imply.

"No," he follows her, determined to make her see, "You were just following orders. A company girl."

"Exactly!" she faces him now, her blond pony tail swinging behind her. "We're both so..."

_Fucked up? Crazy? _"Powerless?"

She pauses a moment. Staring directly at him, she says, "We can't take what we want anymore."

And suddenly, the static is back, and the longer her eyes- beautiful, clear blue eyes that had once so enthralled a young watchmaker- remain locked with his, the louder the static gets. Only, it's not what he's used to. This isn't the buzzing in the back of his mind that was present with his powers... Still a need, but not one for power. A need for _her._ It's always been her. From the moment she'd told him her name, in that soft voice, with those big doe eyes capturing his attention. He'd loved her, then, before she'd shown her true colors. He wonders if maybe he hasn't left _everything_ from his old life completely behind... And then, with complete clarity, he can tell exactly how the next few seconds are going to play out. He wonders what she'll taste like. A young watchmaker in a sweater vest had once imagined that she'd taste like peaches.

"Says who?" he finally speaks. He watches those captivating eyes widen as he reaches out for her, and pulls her to him. Then, he sees nothing, because his lips are on hers, and she tastes like heaven. A peach and cinnamon heaven.

She utters a surprised sort of squeak, but puts up no fight. In a second, she's past her shock, and she's kissing him back, matching his intensity, pulling him even closer. He's not going to fight her. He needs this. Needs to feel human, feel wanted, feel _special_. She had made him feel like that, once, and now again.

They separate for only a second, to draw in a breath. That second feels like and eternity. He's found a new addiction, and he doesn't want to give this one up any time soon. They come together again, and it's euphoria all over again. His hands move to her waist, to pull her flush against him, and she fits against him perfectly, like she was made to be there. If he dies right now, he'll die happy...

It's ironic, he may think later, that the moment that thought crosses his mind, the echoing thunder of gunfire shatters his little piece of heaven, and a spray of blood soaks the broken pieces.  


* * *

  
Sooo, continue with Elle's POV, or leave it as is? I should warn you... The endings not going to be any better/informative if I write one for Elle...

Now, please hit that nice little review button, and tell me what ya thought.


End file.
